Out of the Blue
by Southern Trip
Summary: Bosco and Faith respond to a call that hits close to home for both of them. Please R&R! Rated for several curses.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of these characters. 

A/N: This is my first Third Watch story. Please read and review, let me know what you think. I haven't been watching the show long, the reruns and the new ones of Friday nights. If anyone has any facts or other things about the characters, please don't hesitate to share them with me. Also, can anyone tell me if Bosco really is afraid of the dark? If he is, why? Thanks for taking the time to read this. I'm pretty excited about it. 

The alarm clock broke the dark silence of the bedroom with its shrill cries designed to drag even the heaviest of sleepers from their dream filled slumber. It was not needed in the drabbest of drab rooms, though; the room that could be defined as a cell, plain white walls, wrinkled grey sheets, heavy curtains blocking out the early morning son. 

NYPD Officer Maurice Boscorelli sat on the edge of his twin sized bed, bent forward at the waist with his face cradled in his hands. Despite the low temperature of the room, sweat dripped down his face and onto the carpeted floor. With a visible effort, he raised his head and glared daggers at the intruding sound with bloodshot eyes. He stood slowly, ripping the blasted machine off his desk and tearing it from the wall plug. He pushed a shaking hand through his hair, and sighed heavily. Bosco couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a full night's uninterrupted sleep. Images from the past year hunted him in his sleep, something even when he was awake. Airplanes crashing into buildings, men and women jumping out of towers holding hands, EMS crews that he worked with rushing to the scene too late. A sudden shiver ran up Bosco's spine, and he shook his head rapidly, as if hoping to send the thoughts flying out his ears. He checked the wristwatch that never left his wrist, and was dismayed to see that his shift didn't start for another hour. Bosco worked the 3-11 shift at the 55th precinct in New York City, the most busy and dangerous time of the day. There was something about darkness, the young officer thought, that just seemed to bring out the crazy in people. Upon returning home the night previous, Bosco had down three quarters of a bottle of bourbon, in a useless attempt to drown his sorrows. All that he gained from the episode was a headache that threatened to split his skull in two. He left his bedroom suddenly, hurrying down the hall to the kitchen, and the much needed bottle of aspirin that never left the counter. After a brief struggle with the childproof lid, Bosco popped four pills into his mouth and gulped them down. He momentarily considered trying to eat something, but doubted he could keep it down. In the end, he showered quickly, got dressed, and headed down to the station. 

Officer Faith Yokas hurried into the 55th precinct, juggling her jacket, her bag and a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her arms. She was late. Faith Yokas, the one officer with a perfect attendance record, had showed up late for the first time in eight years. Sighing heavily as she rushed to the locker room, she knew Bosco, her partner, would have a field day with this. It wasn't as if she let him off easy if he was late. She made it to the locker room, and was relieved to see the it empty. She wondered briefly where he partner was, but decided he was probably later than her. The thought eased her troubled mind slightly. Faith set her coffee down on the bench, then opened her locker and stuffed her jacket in. That was when she heard the almost inaudible sniffling sound. The sound brought her back in time about a year, when her son Charlie had heard of the September 11th attacks. She had come home after an exhaustive fourteen hour shift at ground zero, to find Charlie hiding in the closet. He told her that he thought that if he hid in the closet, the evil men with airplanes wouldn't find him. Presently, Faith set her bag down quietly, and headed towards the back of the locker room. She rounded the last row of metal lockers, and was shocked into speechlessness to see Bosco sitting on the wooden bench, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees with his face in his hands. She realized with a start that he was shaking just noticeably. She found her voice, and managed to say, "Bosco? Are you alright?" 

The young man's head shot out of his hands, and immediately found his partner staring at him. His blue eyes were bloodshot, and fairly red rimmed, but his face was dry and his mouth still as he looked at her, cheeks turning pink. He nodded, and stood up quickly. 

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little headache. I'll, uh, let you get changed and see ya in roll call." 

Without another word, he turned from her and hurried out of the room. 

A frown carved itself into Faith's forehead. Although she hadn't said anything to anyone yet, she was worried about her partner. Confronting him was difficult, since she had no actual proof. It was only a mother's intuition; a feeling that something about him was off. As she finished buttoning up her shirt, she decided she could keep an eye on him through their eight hour shift. 

"So, aren't you going to say anything?"Faith finally asked. They had been driving around the city for twenty minutes already, and Bosco had yet to make any kind of remark about her tardiness. He took his eyes off the road for a second to cast a glance at her. 

"What are you talking about? Did you get your hair cut, or something?"he asked, as he turned down 52nd street. 

Faith shook her head emphatically. "No, you gumbo. I didn't cut my hair. I was ten minutes late for shift today. I figured you'd jumped all over it." 

Bosco looked at her again for a heartbeat. "Nah, you're a mother. I assumed you had you're reasons. Why? Is something wrong?" 

She noticed the concern in his tone, and smiled softly. The man who was normally tough and unreachable to some had a special connection with Faith's two kids, and talk of them never failed to put a smile on his face. "No. Well, not really. Fred's got the flu. The one thing that can turn him into a baby faster than a case of beer is a stomach bug." 

Bosco snorted. It was no secret to virtually anyone that he disliked Faith's husband strongly. The two butted heads nearly every time they met, Fred thinking Bosco had too much influence over his wife's life, and Bosco thinking Fred was too pigheaded for his partner. It was a never ending battle between the two. "So, he's drinking again?"he asked, voice tight with sudden anger. Faith was quick to shake her head. 

"No, he's been an angel lately. He even helps get the kids off to school in the morning. When he's well, that is." 

Bosco's response was to roll his eyes skyward. "Yeah, the guys up for Sainthood anytime now. Look, can we talk about something else? How are the kids?" 

"They're fine. Emily's finally forgiven me for missing her recital." 

Her partner shook his head slowly. "You know I think your kids are great, but I think they need to learn that they have it pretty damn good." 

Faith laughed bitterly. "Yeah, right. A mother who can't get ten minutes off work to watch her daughter's first recital, and a father who used to drink himself into oblivion once a week." 

"Yeah, well, some kids have it a lot worse!" His sudden anger surprised his partner, and after studying his tense face for a minute, turned back to her vigil of the busy sidewalks without another word. If Bosco was in a bad mood, that was fine with her. 

"All units, call Control." The tinny voice spit the words out over the CB radio, and Bosco and Faith exchanged glances. She took the cell phone that was handed to her, and hit the speed dial button. 

"Yeah, it's 55 David." 

She was quiet for a long moment, then swore softly under her breath, and acknowledged her understanding of their orders. She handed Bosco's phone back to him, then reached out and flicked on the sirens and lights. "P.S. 156,"she said, referring to a public school only a few blocks away. "Control received reports of shots fired." 

Bosco let loose his own personal string of profanities, and swung the car into a tire squealing right hand turn. In all the nine years he had been with the NYPD, he had responded to seven potential school shootings. Four had been false alarms, kids bringing in fake guns for presentations, or some shit like that. Three had been the real deal. Bodies of young kids on the floor, coming across a terrified student every time you turned around. The worst part for him had been facing the kid responsible with his gun drawn. Bosco figured that he had such trouble pointing his gun at a kid because in his heart, he understood where the gunman was coming from. No way in hell would he have drawn a gun on a school full of kids, but he definitely understood the emotions that ran through these kids warped brains. 

Several minutes later, Bosco swung into the parking lot of P.S. 156, bringing the cruiser to a stop beside 55-Charlie. He and Faith joined Ty Davis Jr. and John Sullivan, where they were standing with Lieutenant Swersky. 

"What's the plan?"Faith asked. Bosco watched the school intently, studying the large group of students that had already fled the building, standing on the far end of the football field. 

"Well, we have reports from some of the students that there are three gunmen, several already injured, possibly dead." 

"Any idea why they're doing this?"Davis asked, receiving a glance from his partner. He shrugged. "Hey, I'm just thinking if we know why they're shooting everyone, chances are we can talk them down." 

Swersky shook his head. "Nobody knows these kids well enough. Apparently they weren't even on the radar." 

Sully snorted loudly. "That might just be your reason right there. A bunch of kids who want to make an impression on everyone." 

"And in their minds, that's exactly what they're doing." Faith glanced nervously at the school in the background. More than anything she wanted to charge in through the front door, and help every single kid out safely. While she knew it was her maternal instincts speaking, she did not doubt the fact that every other officer on the scene shared her feelings. She turned to Bosco, and suddenly realized he wasn't there. She spun around quickly, searching for the familiar shape of her partner's head. 

"Where's Bosco?" 


	2. Boscorelli Methods

Maurice Boscorelli switched off his shoulder radio the instant he heard his partner squawking his name over all the frequencies. He knew that he was taking a stupid risk, but he also trusted in the fact that Davis and Sully would keep his partner from following him into the school. She had other things to worry about besides his sorry ass. He approached the side door of the school, gun drawn and reassuring in his hands. He peered in through the narrow window, to a long hallway that formed a right angle corner about fifty yards away. Bosco swallowed hard. Although his instincts screamed at him that the element of surprise was his best option, he knew he had to do this nice and slow. An inexperienced person with a loaded gun in their hands was a dangerous thing, and the last thing he needed was a bullet in his forehead 'cause he jumped out from behind a coat rack. He pushed the door open and slipped inside the building, easing it closed behind him without a sound. 'Thank God for well-paid maintenance people,' he thought to himself. He passed by a display on the left hand wall, flaunting the colourful springtime paintings of young students. A cold shiver ran up his spine involuntarily. There were so many ways this situation could end, and none of them looked good. Bosco bit back his feeling of trepidation, and moved on to the first door. He pushed the door open with his hip, gun up and at the ready. He was met by silence, and after a quick look around the room, determined it was as empty as it seemed. He flicked on his radio long enough to let the others outside know his status, then continued on his way. Five classrooms later, his feeling of anxiety was beginning to lift. He was five for five; no bodies, no shots fired. All his hope came crashing down, though, when he opened the door to the sixth room. The heart wrenching sound of terrified sobbing filled his ears immediately. He crouched down on the floor, and walked forward slowly, resembling, however accidentally, a frog trying to walking on his hind legs. Bosco followed the cries, and soon came across a young teenage girl cowering underneath one of the tables that lined the back of the room. He quickly holstered his gun. 

"Hey, honey, my name's Bosco, I'm a police officer. Are you alright?" 

Her breathing only intensified, the ripping sound of hyperventilating offending to his ears. He reached for her hand, and the poor girl didn't protest when he held it gently between his. "Look, sweetheart, you're safe with me, but we have to get you out of here, alright?" 

She managed to slow her breathing, and relax long enough to nod. He helped her out from under the table, and she stood weakly, clinging desperately to his arm. 

"What's your name?"he asked, fingering the switch on his radio. 

She took a few deep breaths, and Bosco realized that had he been fifteen years younger, and this been a better day, she would've stolen his heart. "Tracy,"she managed to get out. 

Bosco nodded his appreciation. "Great. Okay, Tracy, I need to ask you some questions real quick. Do you know how many people have guns?" 

His mention of the loaded weapons seemed to take away what little sanity she had left. Her hyperventilating returned, and Bosco had to snake an arm around her waist to hold her up. "Tracy,"he said, his voice commanding as he gently shook her. "I need your help here, okay? Can you help me?" 

For a long moment, it appeared as if she was incapable of answering him, and that he had wasted his time. But then quite abruptly, her breathing slowed, and her green eyes cleared up. 

"I saw one,"she said, her voice surprisingly even. "There might be more, though." 

He nodded. "That's great, sweetie. Thank you. Now I'm gonna need you to do one more thing for me. I'm gonna call my partner on my radio, and have her meet you at the door, okay? So we're gonna leave this room, I'm gonna cover you, and you're gonna run as fast and as quiet as you can out the back door, alright? Faith will meet you out there and keep you safe." 

She held his gaze for a long moment, eyes wide at the situation that lay before. Then she nodded stiffly, and murmured her thanks as he helped her over to the door. He radioed his partner quickly, telling her to meet Tracy by the back doors and to get her fixed up. Then he opened the door a crack, stuck his head out, then turned to the young girl again. "You understand what to do?" 

When she nodded her affirmation, he smiled. "Alright. You did good, sweetheart. I'll see you out there." 

With those final words to her, he stepped out into the hall, gun up and elbows locked, then barked one single word at her. "Run." 

And run she did. Bosco turned for a split second to watch her move, with long graceful strides, looking more like a gazelle then a frightened highschool student. 'Thank God,'he thought. He made sure she made it outside alright, then moved on down the hallway. On the right hand side was the school's administrative office, and after a quick survey, Bosco realized it had been long deserted. Directly ahead of him was set of double doors with narrow rectangular windows in the both doors. A sign on the wall beside announced it as the library. He crept towards the tiny windows, and risked a peek inside. The first thing he noticed in the bright, blue carpeted room was several bodies littering the floor, resting in pools of blood. He viciously fought the urge to knock the door in, repeating the mantra, 'Do what Faith would do,' in his mind. After a moment of silent thought, he smirked. 'Oh, screw it. Faith would never have turned off her radio, and ignored her superior officer like that.' He opened the door on the right slowly, again thanking the fact that the hinges were kept well oiled. The school's expansive library stretched out before him. On the left was the checkout counter, and behind it, a series of offices that Bosco was not looking forward to searching. On the right the wall was lined with individual desks, naturally, all empty. Directly ahead the floor was sunken in several steps, and filled with state of the art computers. Beyond that, the room was filled with lines of bookshelves and an emergency exit. With a grim set to his mouth, Bosco approached the group of offices. After a quick ten minute search, all he came up with was the fact that the librarians appeared to like Krispy Kreme donuts. He moved further into the room, and with a sharp intake of air, realized he had nearly tripped over the first body. 

"Dammit!"he hissed, crouching easily beside the young boy. He bled from a gaping hole in the back of his skull, and Bosco knew with a turning stomach that there was nothing that could be done. He stayed beside the young boy for a minute, clenching his jaw shut against the fury that was building. It was beyond his comprehension why someone would take a gun to school. The startling results of studies done about bullying did nothing to change his mind. Bosco was a firm believer in the though that everything you do is because you want to. He didn't cop out behind excuses about bullies, and teasing. He rose again, and continued forward, down in the pit of the room. There he found another body, bleeding profusely from a shot to the leg. This one appeared to be a librarian, a kind looking old lady with short gray hair. She sobbed softly into the carpet, and Bosco could barely make out her prayers. He put his hand gently on her shoulder, and said softly, "Ma'am, I'm NYPD. I'm gonna help you, alright?" 

Her eyes opened wide, and she turned to look at him with wide brown eyes. "You're the answer to my prayers,"she exclaimed, then seemed to relax back onto the floor. Bosco swallowed hard. He was by no means a medic, but he knew bad gun shot wounds when he saw one. It was obvious to even his untrained eye that a major artery had been nicked, the blood very nearly pouring from the hole in her leg. He gently untied the scarf from around her neck, and wrapped it tightly around her leg. 

"You hold tight, ma'am,"he whispered. "I'm gonna get you help as soon as I can." 

He stood again, holding his gun tightly despite the trembling that plagued his hands. 'Get a hold on yourself, Maurice,'he heard his father's voice command in his head. 'What are you, a woman? You afraid of a little blood?' He shook his head violently, and looked around the room with a practiced critical eye. Now was not the time to let the memory of his abusive father guide his decisions. He neared the back wall of the library, and saw that it was lined with desks much like the other wall. Much to his surprise, a young man was sitting at one the desks, his hands folded neatly in front of him. Bosco's immediate thought was that he needed help, shock was a dangerous thing. He hurried towards the boy, and said, "hey, kid, are you alright? Do you need help?" 

The boy pivoted slowly in his chair, and Bosco realized with a start that there was a gun resting in the kid's lap. His own weapon was immediately up and trained on the student. "You did this? Did you do all this shooting?" 

The boy looked at the officer with wide green eyes, looking almost comical in his expression. A small amount of blood was splattered on his forehead, the tips of his blond hair coated in it. Bosco had to fight the urge to gag. 

"Look, kid, I don't want to shoot you. Put the gun down. It's over." 

The boy merely shook his head. "It's never over,"he said softly, almost sadly. "It never ends. It goes on forever and ever and ever." 

'Wacko.' Bosco tightened his grip on his gun. "No, you're wrong. It does end. Right here and right now. Slide the gun over to me, and it'll end." 

Again, he shook his head slowly. Then, much to the young officer's surprise, he started to cry. Not great, wracking sobs like one would've expected, but silent tears running trails down his cheeks, rivelets of clear liquid through the bright red of blood. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." He bent forward, rocking back and forth on the plastic chair. 

Bosco's heart beat like a battering ram against the inside of his ribs. This kid was obviously unstable. It became clear to him then that conventional Boscorelli methods weren't worth spit. 

"You shot those people,"he said quietly. "It's good you're sorry, because it was your fault, and now you're gonna have to pay the consequences." 

The boy ceased his rocking, and looked up at Bosco with impossibly wide eyes. "I'm sorry,"he said again, but this time, Bosco understood with a chill that he was apologizing to him, not at him. He noticed the boy's eyes flick to spot behind him, and as he spun around with his gun up, he knew that he wasn't fast enough. The ear popping yet achingly familiar crack of the hang gun going of filled the small library, reverberating off the walls and ceiling. Bosco ducked hard to the left, but as was his life story, he just wasn't quick enough. White hot pain tore through his right shoulder, the force of the shot spinning his body as he fell to the ground. He cursed out loud as his head snapped back and his gun bounced out of his know useless hand. 'Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit...' 

A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You guys have no idea who much it is appreciated...oh wait, scratch that. I'm pretty sure you all do. Thanks again, though. I've written for a few different universes, and Third Watch is definitely the best. Anyways, I hope you guys like this one. Let me know. One of my favourite Bosco moments is in the episode where he and Faith are hunting for that doctor's (the one from ER) niece. I love the scene where Bosco jumps through the window and tackles the guy. I tried to base his interaction with the girl he found in the classroom, on the part where he picks up little Suzie, and calls her honey. My, word, that guy is gorgeous. Anyways, sorry for the cliff hanger. Please review! 


	3. Love Conquers All Things

A/N: Hope you guys like this one. Please review. I really appreciate it! 

The sharp crackle was muffled outside the building, but there was little doubt in Faith Yokas' mind as to what it was. Her blue eyes were wide as she turned to look at Lieutenant Swersky. Just past the small cluster of police officers, Doc Parker and Carlos Nieto, 55th precinct paramedics tended to the minor injuries of a few students. Instead of the sight reassuring her like it had countless times before, seeing the parked ambulance with lights still flashing only served to heighten her anxiety. Anger suddenly built in the back of her throat, anger at her partner for running into a situation, half-cocked, like he always did. The man was very nearly impossible to work with. Steadfastly refusing help in his personal and professional life, Faith feared the day when his fearlessness would get him into more trouble than he bargained for. She realized then with a wave of despair that today might be that day. 

"I can't get him on his radio,"Swersky spoke up beside her. "I don't like this at all." 

A deep frown marred Faith's face, as she unhooked her own radio. She pressed the dial down, listening carefully on all frequencies. Her hope was beginning to drain when her troubles produced nothing but static. But then all of a sudden, things suddenly changed. The last frequency of the radio, the one seldom used by anyone, didn't spew the offending static from the speaker like all the others. Faith could feel her heart beating in her temple as she turned the volume up slowly. Pressing her ear into the speaker, she could just barely make out the sound of quickened breathing. 

"Lieu!"she shouted, waving him over. "Listen to this!" She grabbed him forcibly by his sleeve, and held the speaker against his ear. Her commanding officer listened intently for a long minute, then straightened and looked at her closely. "Are we sure it's him? I mean, couldn't it be an interfering signal, or something?" 

If at all possible, Faith's frown deepened. Again, she turned the volume up. The next sound that came over the speaker was one that sent shivers running up and down her spine, at the same time as warming her heart. "Faith..." 

'You should've gone before we left the station.' The first thought to enter Bosco's mind after he hit the floor was so absurd and unwarranted for the situation that he nearly laughed out loud. Probably would've if not for the burning pain in his right shoulder. His partner's words echoed in his mind , reminding him of the fact that his bladder was full, and needed to be emptied. He had heard horror stories of officers getting shot, and shitting themselves, or pissing their pants. He was quite relieved to feel his boxers still very dry, despite the horrific pain in his shoulder. The last thing he needed was one of his fellow officers finding him with a load in the back of his pants. His vision swam before him, pink swirls and purple spots everywhere he looked. He closed his eyes tightly, forcing his mind to stay focused. 'I was wearing my vest,'he told himself. 'Thank God for Kevlar.' He brought his hand up to his shoulder, fingers already anticipating the pocked mark of the stopped bullet. But when his hand encountered nothing but warm stickiness, and fresh pain shot up his arm and branched out through his chest, he suddenly felt like throwing up. He looked carefully at his fingers, seeing the red liquid there, and panic nearly overcame him. A great heaving sob burst from his lips before he managed to bottle his alarm. 'Now is definitely not the best time to lose it,'a voice said in his mind, and he was somewhat surprised to recognize it as Faith's. 

"Faith..."he whispered, longing for his partners sensible stability, her bravery, her common sense. 

He had been shot in the shoulder, a place he knew the vest should've protected. So why didn't the damn thing do it's only job? A sickening thought suddenly occurred to him. He remembered a topic Lieu had brought up at roll call several weeks earlier. Bosco had been hung over and as a result wasn't really paying attention, but he seemed to remember something about special bullets designed especially to make it through Kevlar. Cop killers, they called them. He remembered the startling thought of no protection coming to his mind, but he had managed to push it aside, and continue doing his job as normal. Now it seemed the whole subject had come back to bite him in the ass. He fought through the haze of pain for control of his mind, and tried to recall out he had ended up on the floor. He had been talking to the boy, and he had apologized. Bosco remembered getting the impression that he was getting apologized to, then he had turned around...and bam. Someone else had shot him! There was another gun in the room! The thought forced adrenaline coursing through his veins. He looked wildly around the room, moving his head as much as the pain in his shoulder would allow. He could see the boy looking down at him with an expression of pity and sadness on his face. 'Huh,'Bosco thought to himself. 'You should feel it from down here.' He managed to get his good arm underneath him, and raise himself slowly into a sitting position. Breathing rather shortly, he reached for his gun. 

"Stay right where you are, Officer." 

The feminine voice spoke over the roaring in his ears, and he looked towards the source. A young woman, most definitely not a student of the school, stood over him, holding an identical pair of nine millimeter Glocks in her hands. 'Oh, shit,'Bosco again said to himself. 'The wacko's got my gun.' She wore a black business skirt suit, and even through his personal world of pain, Bosco recognized the woman's curves. Elbow length black hair framed her pretty face. 'Great. Just perfect. Sexy wacko's got a pair of guns trained on me.' He thought for a moment, then in spite of the situation he was in, nearly laughed. 'If only Faith could see me know.' He slid backwards slowly, until his back was pressed against the bookshelf. 

"Who the hell are you?"he asked, disturbingly proud of how even his voice managed to sound. She smirked, and took a careful step towards him, her three inch high heels clicking loudly on the floor. She crouched in front of him, looking rather intently at his face. When she reached out to touch his cheek with long fingers, he jerked his head away, sending a fresh stab of pain throughout his body, making him gasp for breath. 

"You know," she said seductively. "In another time, another place, I might've asked you out." 

Bosco forced his pain down, and smiled bitterly. "Sorry, lady, but I prefer my woman anything but certifiable." 

Her response was anything but a surprise. She lashed out with his gun, and pistol whipped him across his face, sending his head knocking back against the book spines. "And I prefer my men without holes in their upper bodies." 

Bosco shook his head fiercely, sending the fog out of his mind. He reached up with his good arm, and with a sharp intake of breath, applied pressure to the bullet hole. He maintained eye contact with the woman, his eyes frozen solid like two shards of blue ice. He set his jaw carefully, then said, "Let me ask again. Who the hell are you?" 

She smiled, and rose to her feet again. She stepped over his stretched out legs, and settled into the lap of the boy Bosco had been talking with earlier. She kissed him softly on the lips, ran her hands through his short blond hair. 'Oh, that's fucking great. Got myself involved in a damn lovers quest.' 

"Hang on,"he said, holding up his bloodied hand. "Let me try to count how many laws you're breaking. Must be some kind of record." He resumed pressure on his aching shoulder as the woman looked up and held his gaze for several long seconds. 

"My name is Achsa Rosina. I am, or should I say, was an English teacher here at P.S. 156." 

"Oh,"Bosco said suddenly, as if everything made perfect sense. "So you're trying to give your students some hands on experience?" 

The wacko shook her head slowly. "It's sad, really. How cocky you can be even when faced with certain death." 

A muscle in Bosco's cheek twitched. His tongue itched to come back at her with a smart ass comment, but the dull throbbing of his left cheek held his words in check. He continued to watch her, silently asking her to go on. She took the hint. 

"They tried to fire me. Said it wasn't right that I was involved with a student. They said it was against the rules. But we showed them, didn't we, baby?" 

The boy smiled weakly, and even from where he sat on the floor, Bosco could see his fear and regret in his eyes. "What's your name?"he asked, looking directly at the student. 

He looked up in surprise, as if he wasn't expecting to be a part of the conversation. If you could call it a conversation. "Uh, my name's Mike Webster." 

Bosco bit back a sigh. Although he was often criticized for his rash decisions and quick judgements of people, the NYPD officer knew how to read a person. He was receiving the signals loud and clear that this boy didn't want any part of the shooting. A thought occurred to him then; if he could get Mike by himself, away from the sexy whacko, he might be able to convince the boy to help him. 

"So, what are we going to do?"Bosco asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "I mean, what is your purpose for murdering innocent kids and shooting a police officer?" 

"They will acknowledge our love,"Rosina answered, rising from Mike's lap. "I don't care what we have to do. They will learn that you can't separate two people in love." 

The pain in Bosco's shoulder, and the fact that there were many people in the school that needed help, was wearing his patience thin. He knew the other officers wouldn't enter the building until they got confirmation from him that everything was safe. They had to work on the assumption that it was a hostage situation. It seemed that his lone ranger attitude had once again left him deserted, as it were. "Look,"he said, wincing as he pressed harder into his shoulder. "I need an ambulance. So does that woman over there, and I'm sure there are other people around the school. You've made your point. You two are in love. I doubt anyone will deny that now. Give up now, and you might be able to avoid the chair." 

Rosina was shaking her head emphatically. Bosco noticed the boy's eyes widen slightly at the prospect of the death penalty. 'Damn right you should be scared.' His mind worked furiously to come up with a reason to get the woman away. He hadn't forgotten about his shoulder radio. Bosco knew he would only have a few seconds to do what he needed to, because the woman would be on him like a ton of bricks. He also understood that the message would have to be clear, with no room for interpretation. He would only get one chance. He thought back to his time on the beat with Faith, searching for some signal he could send her. A sudden thought came to Bosco, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He watched the sexy whacko as she ran her hands up and down Mike's chest, all the while creeping his hand across his own chest to his portable CB radio. When Rosina bent down to kiss the young boy, Bosco hurried into action. He pressed down the hand held unit, sending a silent prayer up that his partner would get it. 

"It's Suzie, Faith! Remember Suzie! I have to help her! It's Suzie!" 

The words died on his lips as Rosina launched herself at him. 


	4. Faith Clues In

A/N: Sorry for another semi-cliff hanger. Thanks for the reviews, and please keep sending them. I need motivation to keep writing, and you guys are it! Thank a lot! I hope you like this chapter. 

Faith Yokas squeezed her blue eyes shut, hands pressing down on top of her head as her face knitted with concentration. 'Think, Yokas. Suzie...Suzie...What the hell does he mean?' It had been ten minutes since Bosco's frantic words had come over the radio. Faith sat in the passenger seat of 55-David, racking her brain for some hint of an idea at what her partner had met. She knew it had something to do with their partnership, maybe something they had seen, or a call they had been on. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. She looked out the window of the squad car, to the perimeter ESU was setting up. Lieutenant Swersky had designated the situation a hostage taking, and Emergency Services had been called in. With good reason, Faith had been left out of the planning stage, with specific instructions to find out what Bosco's words meant. The fact that they were just trying to get her out of the way was not lost on her. Whenever her partner was concerned, she knew she could be less than level-headed. 

"God dammit!"she cried, lashing out with her hand against the door. Quite possibly, Bosco's life depended on figuring out what his code meant. She bent forward at the waist, rubbing at her face with her hands. Why the hell couldn't she figure this out? Suzie. It seemed so obvious, yet she was unable to come up with a solution. Suzie. It sounded like a child's name. She couldn't think of any adults that would go by that cutsie name. Okay, so did Bosco know any Suzie's? So far as Faith knew, he didn't have any young relatives. She didn't think he had many friends outside the station(or in it), and none of the other officers had a child named Suzie. Faith froze suddenly in her seat. A sudden memory came back to her so vividly she felt like she was back in that seedy apartment building, trying to make conversation with that dirt bag neighbourhood watch guy. She had been talking to him normally, but when the sound of glass shattering had reached her on the other side of the door, she had kicked the lock in. Now that she thought about it, it wasn't really a surprise to her to realize Bosco had jumped through the window and was beating the creep to a pulp. After pulling him off the suspect, she had sent him to find the girl. Even from where she knelt reciting the perp's rights to him, she could hear Bosco talking softly to the young girl. "Suzie? Suzie, honey, are you alright?" She sat up straight in her seat, blue eyes suddenly wide. That was it! 

"Lieu!"she cried, jumping out of the car and bolting towards Swersky. The older man turned to look at her, his face stern as he opened his mouth to tell her to pipe down. 

"I remember!"she yelled, grabbing his arm in a vice grip. "Dr. Susan Lewis, do you remember? She came down from Chicago. Her niece was missing. Don't you remember? Bosco took to the case personally. He jumped through that window, had to get stitches. Don't tell me you forgot." 

Lieu shook his head. "No, I didn't forget. But what does that have to do with anything? Do you think this doctor involved somehow?" 

"No, the little girl's name was Suzie. He was referring to the missing girl." 

Sully and Davis had hurried over upon seeing Faith burst out of the car like a rocket. Now they stood on either side of her; deep, pensive frowns etched into their faces. "You think there's a little girl in there?" 

Faith's reply was a helpless shrug. "I don't know. I don't think so. He said, 'I have to help her.'" 

She was quiet for a long minute, lost in thought. "Okay, wait a minute. When we got to that guy's apartment, he wouldn't let us in to talk. Bosco told me to keep talking to him while he snuck around back." She stopped, and her hand flew to her mouth. "Jesus, how could I have forgotten? I told him to be careful, and he said he had to help her!" She looked at Swersky, then back at Sully and Davis. 

"Yokas, you're gonna have to spell it out. We don't know what's going on in that head of yours." 

Faith rolled her eyes as if she thought it ridiculous that they hadn't made the connection yet. "He wants us to create a distraction. I think." 

"You think?" Sully stared at her, his left eyebrow raised slightly. "There's a lot on the line for something you're not even sure about." 

If they were in different circumstances, Faith would've chuckled at the thought that Sully, Bosco's biggest opposer, was voicing his concern for the young officer. But after she thought about it for a moment, she realized it wasn't that far fetched. None of them wanted to see a police officer shot, even one as big mouthed and hot headed as her partner. She hoped to God that it wouldn't come to that. 

Meanwhile, Bosco lay limply against the bookshelf, in a world of pain he had frequented few times before. His punishment for Faith's message was swift, and twenty minutes after, his vision was still cloudy. The whacko had yanked his radio off his shoulder, and crushed it under her foot. There was a brief moment when Bosco was certain she was going to shoot him in the head, and it would all be over. But she had settled for grinding the heel of her shoe into his shoulder wound. The agony filled scream couldn't be stopped, and Bosco had passed out for several minutes. Upon regaining consciousness, he had noticed with overwhelming despair that the puddle of blood underneath him had steadily grown while he was out. He no longer possessed the strength to hold pressure against the bullet hole, and he was disturbingly aware of how quickly his blood was flowing down his chest, and soaking his shorts. 

"You're not gonna get away with this,"he murmured. His speech had long since become slurry and slow with the weakness loss of blood created. Rosina looked up from where she sat with young Mike, and smirked. 

"Easy for you to say. I have the perfect hostage right here. I know how protective New York's finest is of their own. They'll do anything to get you back in one piece." 

Bosco chuckled softly, despite the pain it caused. "That's where you're wrong. None of them like me. They'd be happy to see me killed in the line of duty." Speaking was becoming more and more difficult, and his chest heaved slightly with exertion. 'Please, Faith...hurry.' It had been too long since the message, Bosco knew. Either Faith hadn't understood, or no one was listening to her. Either way, the idea that Bosco was going to die from a shoulder wound in a school library was beginning to look more and more like a probable possibility. He shifted his gaze to where the two shooters sat quietly discussing things between them. The thought of the poor woman laying on the floor by the door chewed at Bosco's mind. He knew it would be considered a miracle if she was still alive. He had failed her. He had told her he would get her help, and he had failed. And now she was almost certainly dead. 

"Hey!" His attempt at a shout was less a shout and more a rush of air leaving his lips. He reached his goal, however, when Rosina turned to look at him. "Listen,"he began, grimacing as he shifted his weight. "There's a woman over there who's going to die if we don't get her help. Let some paramedics come in and take her away. You'll still have me and that'll be good enough." 

Much to his surprise, she actually seemed to be considering his suggestion. After a moment's thought, she nodded. "Alright. That sounds fair. I don't want too many people to die. How can I tell them to come get her?" 

With a visible effort, Bosco reached into a side pocket and pulled out his cell phone. A flash of anger crossed the woman's face, and Bosco winced, fearing the punishment. "It's not even on,"he hastened to explain. "I thought I might need it for something like this." 

She nodded sternly. "Alright. Call someone out there, tell them only two paramedics, no guns. Any funny business and you'll get a bullet in your forehead. Clear?" 

He swallowed hard, then said, "crystal." 

Faith stood with her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. She prayed silently that she had gotten Bosco's message right, and hadn't just condemned her partner to death. The ESU had set up a perimeter; Faith was confident that whoever was responsible for this mess wouldn't get out unscathed. But she worried for Bosco, wondering where that left him. 

A buzzing noise reached her ears then, one that was so unfamiliar in this context that she had to stop and think about the source. Her cell phone. She had forgotten it was still clipped onto her belt. With a sharp intake of breath, she ripped it from her belt and read the screen. Bosco. The glowing green letters spelled out her partners name. 

"Lieu!"she screamed, catching the boss' attention from where he stood talking to the ESU commander. "It's Bosco!" 

She waved her phone at him, then wiped her hands hurriedly on her pants and accepted the call. 

"Bos? Is that you? Are you alright?" 

There was a moment of silence, then a gruff voice Faith barely recognized as her partner's came through the tiny speaker. "Faith...I'm okay. You have to send a couple of medics in. There's a woman...she's shot in the leg, it's really bad. No guns, don't take any chances, she has my gun..." He trailed off as if too weak to continue, and despite Faith's pleading to stay with her, the call ended with a click. Lieu reached her side then, and Faith looked up at him with fear in her eyes. 

"Boss, he said we have to send medics in. There's a woman with a bullet in her leg. He says its bad. Um, he doesn't sound too good, and he says she had his gun." 

Lieu frowned, but nodded stiffly. "Alright. For now, we have to play by their rules. But that doesn't mean we're giving up, okay?" He laid his hand on her shoulder for an instant, then hurried across the parking lot to speak with Carlos and Doc. 


	5. Doc Parker To the Rescue

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one. I'm not too sure how I feel about it. Let me know, please. 

Bosco opened his eyes slowly as he heard the woman get to her feet and walk away, with strict instructions for the young boy to watch him. Although he knew he was in poor shape, he wasn't as bad as he let the woman think. He always was pretty good at poker. He sat up a little straighter, as good as he could get with his weakening body. Mike stared into his lap, obviously not wanting to look at the injured cop sitting on the floor in the pool of his own blood. 

"You don't want to do this,"he said softly, blue eyes softening as he watched the boy carefully. "I can see it in your face. You're not a murderer." 

The boy said nothing, but his whole body tensed, and Bosco knew he had hit it on the mark. 

"Look, in all honesty, it's not looking good for your girlfriend. Attempted murder of a police officer, murder of civilians, hostage taking...The list goes on." He was quiet for a moment, took a few deep breaths to regain his momentary strength. "But if you help me now, I'll make sure you get off as lightly as you can." 

The boy was already shaking his head. "No, I love her. I told her I'd do this." 

"No, kid, someone who really loves you wouldn't ask you to do something against your will. This isn't love. This is her taking advantage of you." Mike hung his head lower, if at all possible, and for the first time, Bosco noticed the fading bruises on the kids forearm. He frowned. 

"How'd you get those bruises on your arm, Mike?"he asked, softly. 

The kid seemed to have suddenly grown a backbone. He sat up straighter, and his brown eyes narrowed. "Shut up. You don't know anything." 

Bosco shook his head slowly. He could recognize an abused kid from a mile away. He could see the same things in them that he saw in himself some days. "I know more than you think. Is it your dad? Does your dad hit you, Mike?" 

"Shut up!"the boy whispered, picking up the gun and pointing it at Bosco. "Stop talking!" 

"I understand, kiddo,"Bosco continued. "I know exactly how you feel. You don't belong at home, you don't belong at school, so you find someone you feel you belong with, and you'll do anything for them. Isn't that right?" 

Mike didn't respond, but his hold on the gun loosened, and his arm dropped several inches. Bosco frowned, wondering how far he could take it without snapping the kid. He tried to remember back to the days when he had lived in his father's house, the fear that consumed him everyday, his quick to react temper that had carried over into adulthood. 

"Mike, you don't have to do this. Give me the gun, and we'll take care of it together, alright? I know where you're coming from. My dad was an abusive bastard too. I understand everything. Your desperate need for approval, for love. The fear you live with everyday of your life. But it can get better, kid. Do you understand? We can help you." 

He stopped talking as a wave of dizziness washed over. 'Oh, shit, pushed it too hard,'he thought to himself as his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He allowed them to close, and tried to relax back into the bookshelf. He had tried to get through to the kid, but there wasn't a whole lot else he could do. It was up to Mike now. 

Carlos Nieto swallowed nervously as he pushed the gurnery through the open glass door and into the school. He had accepted immediately when the Lieutenant had asked them to go in the building to help a woman shot in the leg. He was eager to help anyone he could. But when Lieu had given them bulletproof vests to wear under their uniforms, his eagerness had turned to downright fear. The thought that he might be shot never occurred to him. He looked behind him to make sure Doc was indeed following with the bright orange bags filled with supplies. Now that he was inside the school, with no sounds except their footfalls on the floor and the offending squeak of a gurney wheel, Carlos decided he would rather be anywhere else. 

"You alright?"Doc asked quietly from behind him. Carlos hesitated, then nodded. 

"Yeah. You think we should try to check on Boscorelli? Faith said he sounded really weak." 

Doc agreed whole heartedly with Carlos' idea. He didn't know the tough NYPD cop very well, but he had heard enough stories about him to know he didn't weaken too easily. Doc had been planning on asking about Bosco once they got in the library. 

They approached the double doors to the source of the trouble, and knocked quietly. The door swung open immediately, and they were suddenly looking down the barrels of two identical guns, one in each hand of a shapely, dark haired woman in a business suit. 

"'Bout time you got here,"she muttered, opening the door wide enough for them to push the cart through. "I assume you two won't try anything funny. I've got two guns, and your friend sitting back there as my hostage. Just do your job, and get out." 

Doc crouched down beside the still body of a young boy, and sighed heavily when he encountered no pusle. He looked up at the woman, wondering how someone could be capable of doing something so rash and unforgivable. He joined Carlos' beside the body of the woman the shooter indicated. She was an older woman, middle aged, with short gray hair. She was shaking slightly from blood loss and shock, no doubt a result from the hole in her thigh, and the blood pouring from the wound. Doc and Carlos quickly set to work. 

"Ma'am, my name is Doc, and this is my partner, Carlos. We're going to help you, okay?" 

Remarkably, the woman was still conscious and lucid enough to understand them. She nodded weakly, then said, "I knew my angel would come through." 

Doc glanced up at her face as he carefully applied a pressure bandage to the gun shot wound. "Who's your angel, ma'am?"he asked more to keep her awake and talking than out of actual curiousity. She smiled faintly, then said, "I think his name was NYPD. He said he was going to help me." 

Doc frowned slightly, exchanging a glance with Carlos over the woman's body. Bosco. The officer had helped this woman, possibly saving her life by wrapping her scarf around her wound to stop the bleeding. Now he lay somewhere in this library, most likely injured and in much pain. Doc glanced up at the gun wielding woman, who was glancing around the library nervously. 

"Bosco?"Doc called out, praying for confirmation that the younger man was alive and reasonably well. The woman swung towards him, pointing her gun in his face. 

"You shut up and do your job. You don't have to be concerned with him." 

"I'm okay, Doc,"a hesitant voice answered back. "Just get the woman out." 

Doc nodded to himself more than anyone else, and as Carlos finished tending to the woman, the older man looked towards the guns. "Ma'am, if he's injured, I need to help him. It won't hurt your cause any to let me make sure he's okay." 

"Doc, no!"Carlos hissed. He also wanted to make sure Bosco was safe, but not at the risk of his own life. A dead paramedic is no help to anyone. The woman tapped her gun lightly against her thigh, frowning in what appeared to be concentration. 

"Two hostages are better than one,"she admitted slowly. She turned to Doc and smiled brilliantly. "I accept. Only you, and a couple of bags of supplies. You try anything that isn't medical, I won't feel bad shooting you." 

Doc nodded stiffly. He helped Carlos lift the woman onto a backboard, then onto the gurney. He took the younger man's shoulders in his hands, and was surprised to see tears filling his eyes. 

"Carlos, you have to get this woman help. Alright? I'll be fine." 

Carlos blinked rapidly, then smiled meekly. "Take care of yourself, Doc." 

Then with a set of guns trained on him, he pushed the gurney out the door and down the hall. Doc swallowed hard, and turned to look at the dark haired woman. "This way,"she said, motioning him over with a gun. He followed her to the other side of the library, behind a set of bookshelves. He immediately noticed a young boy sitting at a desk with a gun resting in his lap. He had a bewildered look on his face, and Doc could see splatters of blood on his face and in his hair. 

"He's right there,"the woman said, shoving Doc to the right. A sharp intake of breath signaled the fact that he had seen Bosco. His pale face, dark bags under his eyes, didn't bode too well for his physical state. The officer leaned limply against a shelf of books, apparently dozing, his head lolled to the right as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up. He hands rested loosely in his lap, and Doc noticed with despairing thoughts the amount of blood pooling around the young man. He kneeled beside him, and started rooting through his bags. 

"Bosco, my boy, why is it always you?"he said softly, as he produced a vile of morphine from one the many pockets. Bosco's eyes flew open, and he studied the paramedic with startlingly blue eyes clouded with pain. 

"Doc,"he whispered softly. "What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I'm gonna help you out." He administered the shot with care, and saw it take effect an instant later. The lines around Bosco's eyes and mouth slackened, and he smiled. 

"Thanks. I guess I should get a frequent customer card, huh?" 

Doc chuckled softly as he helped the officer lay down on the floor. He cut Bosco's shirt down the middle, and tore it off the young man's upper bodies. Discarding it to the side, he noticed the hole in his vest and frowned. So this woman had done her homework. Cop killers. Although he had never seen any damage done by them on any of his calls, he knew their destructive power. He knew what this meant. Not only was Bosco in horrible danger, but so was Doc himself. He opened the vest's velcro and managed to get if off with only a sharp intake of breath from his patient. 

"Bos, I gotta turn you over, make sure there's an exit wound." Bosco nodded weakly, and thanks to the morphine, made only a small moan as Doc rolled him onto his side. 

"What's the verdict?"Bosco asked, as he was eased onto his back. 

Doc smiled at him. "Haven't you heard? I'm the Bosco of paramedics. I don't lose patients. You'll be fine." 

Bosco said nothing. He was assaulted by a sudden feeling, one that stole the breath from his lungs and turned his face even more ashen. He knew with a certainty he had never felt before that one way or another, this was going to end very soon. He wasn't sure if it was relief he felt deep in his gut, or simply another stage of his injury he hadn't reached yet. He swallowed hard as Doc fastened a pressure bandage around his shoulder. Bosco wondered desperately what Faith was doing at that moment. 


End file.
